


Honey Bun, Sugar Plum

by ScarletPotter



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Awesome Clint Barton, Clint makes the sad go away, Comfort, Crying, Cuddles, Flash Thompson Bullies Peter Parker, Good Uncle, Not Incest, Panic Attack, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Clint Barton, Uncle-Nephew Relationship, by Clint, flash is so dead, his adorable uncle clint, rip flash thompson when clint's done with him, snuggles, throwing up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 19:40:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21021185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletPotter/pseuds/ScarletPotter
Summary: There's not enough Uncle!Clint and Peter fics, and I'm honestly disappointed. So when Flash has some mean comments to say, Uncle Clint makes everything a little bit better.





	Honey Bun, Sugar Plum

**Author's Note:**

> Wassup ma dudes! So, I just realized that I’ve committed a great sin. I’ve hardly written any Peter and Clint fics, and it’s one of the cutest relationships out there! And no one ever thought to let me know! Dishonor, on thy cows!

Peter trudged through the school hallway, huffing as he wished the clock would magically turn two, and he could run like The Flash out of here, and never look back. As cruel as it sounded, Flash was crueler. 

By some, devious plan, both Ned and MJ were absent today, and he could practically feel Flash’s annoying smirk radiate off which meant that today was going to be a fantastic day. Total sarcasm. 

He sighed in his seat, opening his notebook and writing the heading when Flash slid into the seat that was Ned’s seat with a mischievous smirk across his petty face. Peter was internally mid sigh when Flash “accidentally” spilled water over Peter’s new notebook, causing Peter to sigh softly as he retorted, “Well Flash, that’s a waste of water.” 

Flash chuckled, “How dumb are you p*nis? That’s not my water dumbass. Shows exactly why your ass doesn’t belong in this school!” 

The rest of the period consisted of crude remarks such as:

_ “You’re so fucking skinny like what the hell man!” _

_ “You think you’re so smart, but we all know that you’re nothing compared to us!” _

_ “No one here likes you, don’t you get it! MJ and Ned are probably off enjoying their day together without you!” _

_ “We don’t want you here. That’s why your parents are dead, because, to them, death was better than putting up with you! We all know how you led to the death of your uncle, who’s next?” _

_ “I don’t know why you stan Spiderman so much, he’s a complete failure, just leave the saving of the world to the real heroes, he’s probably some kid on crack who thinks people need him. Honestly, he’s no hero.” _

_ “Don’t you understand how pathetic you are?” _

_ “You don’t fit in,  _ freak _ .” _

  
  


Peter ignored the flinch that came when Flash mentioned Spiderman, he thought that Spiderman was a hero, he saved lives! He was New York’s protector, was he not enough? He was trying his hardest to save everyone, and he hardly messed up. He already had enough doubts as Peter Parker, was Spiderman a failure as well?

It was the last one that stung particularly hard, he had considered himself low, but never a  _ freak _ . The word alone had such a negative connotation that made Peter feel sick to his stomach, and the furious blinking of tears, but the venomous way it rolled off Flash’s tongue only made the feelings three thousand times worse. Peter felt like throwing up, and knew his hands had begun to shake. He felt dizzy, and knew the panic attack was due within a few moments. 

Flash merely snickered at the boy’s panic making a few remarks about something along the lines of Peter being a sissy and sauntered off, like the little shit he is. 

Flash leaves the swaying and shaking boy alone, and Peter begins to sputter and fumble for his phone, only for it to slip through his fingers and crack against the school pavement. He bends over and just picks up the phone, as quick as his breathing rate type the passcode in and get KAREN to call for someone at the tower. 

He knew the call went through because Tony’s AIs don’t play around when it comes to his safety, and the next thing he knew, everything went dark and he felt himself hit something rough. 

......

Someone was gently caressing his face, speaking soft words trying to get him to wake up. Peter glossily opened his eyes seeing double of everything. Someone who looked a lot like Clint was cupping his face, and gently brushing his curls from his eyes. Clint spoke in a grounding tone, “Peter, buddy, you okay?” Peter’s arm latched onto Clint’s wrists murmuring, “I don’t feel so good. I think I’m going to be sick, everything’s spinning.” Clint nodded, “All right bud, I’ve got you, let’s get you home, alright.” 

Peter would have nodded, but he knew that if he did, his dizziness would only get worse, so he let Clint slowly guide him to his feet, and wrapped an arm around him when his feet gave way. Peter had no idea how Clint even got here, and how the hell security had let him up here, but the safe feeling he felt in Clint’s arms melted all his worries away as he was carried to the car. 

He kept his eyes closed to try and help the agonizing dizziness run its course and go away when he was placed gently onto a softish seat and a metal buckle was strapped across from him. He felt his backpack be softly placed against his feet and a warm voice that could only be Clint ask, “You okay if I drive?” Peter slowly nodded and Clint climbed into the driver's seat, snaking an arm around Peter, softly rubbing a patch of skin on his forehead as he gently hummed a tune as he drove through the streets back to the Avengers Tower. 

He slowly pulled into the garage and into the driveway and spoke softly to Peter, “Do you want me to carry you up?” Peter gratefully nodded, visibly wincing, “Yes please.” Clint nodded, slinging Peter’s backpack across an arm, and tucking his arms under Peter’s and holding him against his chest. 

Were it any other day, Peter would have complained but the only things he could really focus on was his pounding head and the cruel remarks Flash had said. But all he wants to do is dive into his blankets and cry for an eternity. 

He lets himself sink into the warm and comforting touch of his Uncle Clint and lets himself cry silently, just to get the toxins out of his head, because holding the cries he desperately needs to escape physically hurts his heart and his brain feels clogged on an endless repeat, and if he doesn’t get this out, he’s going to lose his mind. Clint notices the wetness on his sleeve but says nothing until they reach the common floor gently lowering himself and the child onto the sofa. 

He softly rubs circles on Peter’s back with a hand, and uses his other one to softly trace patterns through Peter’s curls, letting the boy have some time to let out whatever has him all worked up. 

Then he speaks softly, “Pete, buddy, what’s wrong? Talk to me kiddo, I’ll help you make it better. I’m an assassin, whatever it is, trust me, I’ll make it go away.” 

Peter doesn’t say anything at first, until his soft cries escalate into sobs as he clutches onto Clint for dear life. 

Clint holds the weeping boy close to his chest as he softly strokes Peter, “Buddy, I know you’re upset, but you gotta tell me what’s wrong. I know it sucks, but it’s the only way you’ll feel better.”

Peter pauses for a few moments, and his sobs turn into muffled sniffles when he speaks, “I hate me, Uncle Clint.” He speaks angrily at what Clint can only assume to be himself, “I hate me!”

Clint wears a saddened expression as he pulls the boy back to force him to meet Clint’s eyes, “Talk to me bud, what could you possibly hate about yourself?” 

Peter lets the angry, poison-laced words escape his mouth, “Because I’m so skinny, and stupid and worthless. I’m so pathetic that all the kids bully me and they won’t leave me alone!” The waterworks start all over again and Peter is back resting against Clint’s shoulder sobbing, “I don’t know why they have to be so mean!” 

Clint, no stranger to being bullied himself holds Peter tightly as he presses a kiss on the top of Peter’s head, softly rocking the weeping boy speaking, “Peter, whatever those assholes said to you, they’re wrong. They’re wrong Peter. You are the most smartest, and kindest person I know. It’s okay to be skinny, it’s okay to be any shape, you shouldn’t feel ashamed about yourself, especially based on what other people have to say about it. You’re not stupid or dumb, you most definitely aren’t dumb, and you sure as hell aren’t pathetic. You understand?”

Peter refused to reply to Clint, still feeling the terrible words repeat over and over in his head when Clint pulled him back and forced Peter to meet his eyes, “Peter, you aren’t any of those awful things those  _ pricks _ said about you, you understand me? You are so much more than that, am I clear?” Peter nodded and then whispered, “He, he called me, a freak.” 

Clint knows, by the way, Peter’s lip quivers, he’s about to throw up, and gets Peter to the bathroom right in time for Peter to stick his head into the toilet and throw up. Clint kneels beside Peter, softly stroking the poor boy’s back until he leans against the wall signaling he’s done throwing up. 

Clint takes a tissue to wipe Peter’s sweaty face and carries him back to the living room and sets Peter down, this time with his side pressed against Clint’s chest, and speaks softly, “Peter Anthony Stark, you are most definitely not a freak, and I’m three thousand percent sure that if your dad was here right now, he’d kill whoever said this, except, I’m going to do it instead.”

That caused Peter to say, “Uncle Clint! You can’t kill him! We’re the good guys remember!”

Clint retorted, “Uh, yes I can. SHIELD certifies that I can take on whoever I want as long as it is a given target or poses immediate harm to myself or someone I care about. And I care about my Peter. My Peter isn’t any of those words okay? In fact, those words are now added to the banned-word listen, understand? We all love you, me, your dorky friends, Nat, Steve, Bruce, Thor, and especially your Dad okay? Don’t let some punk get to you alright?”    
  
Peter nodded, softly sighing as he rested his weary head against Clint’s chest, using the sound of his heartbeat to lure him into a state of tranquility. A few moments of blissful silence passed when Peter spoke tiredly, “Thank you, Uncle Clint.”

Clint shook his head, slightly adjusting himself so both he and Peter were lying down and had his arms wrapped around Peter speaking, “Peter, don’t thank me for being a good person okay? Now get some rest, alright?”

Peter nodded, leaning against the warmth that radiated against Clint and fell into a warm, dreamless sleep.


End file.
